


Beetroots, Who'd Have Thought?

by orpheous87



Series: Drarropoly 2019 [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarropoly 2.0 - A Drarry Game/Fest, Enemies to Friends, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Herbology, Hogwarts Fifth Year, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Vegetables
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:41:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21811591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orpheous87/pseuds/orpheous87
Summary: Written for bonus prompt #7: Drarry + picking fruit/vegetables/the harvest. Choose either1) a Hogwarts project-OR- 2) Post-Hogwarts -OR- 3) An AU. Cultivating a garden is a lot like cultivating a relationship.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Drarropoly 2019 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1548649
Comments: 4
Kudos: 75
Collections: Drarropoly 2.0 - A Drarry Game/Fest





	Beetroots, Who'd Have Thought?

**Author's Note:**

> Massive thank you to [ Etalice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Etalice/pseuds/Etalice) for betaing ❤️

“Alright, class, settle down please!” 

Harry glanced at Professor Sprout, who stood at the head of the class, her hands on her hips as she waited for the chatter to die down. He was sitting beside Ron and Hermione as usual, in front of Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. 

“Thank you,” Professor Sprout said, a satisfied smile on her face as the class turned their attention to her. “Now, we’re going to do something a bit different this term. We have, somehow, managed to grow a substantial crop of plums, and they need harvesting.” 

Harry frowned and glanced at Hermione. “Plums?” he mouthed. 

Hermione shrugged and turned back to Professor Sprout, not wanting to miss what they were to do. 

“We also have a crop of beetroot that will be ready for picking,” Professor Sprout continued. “I know that this is unusual, as these plants are not magical in nature, but there is much to be learned from teamwork!” 

“Teamwork?” Ron asked, sitting up a bit straighter. “What does she mean, teamwork?” 

“Well, I imagine she’s going to ask us to work in teams to pick the plums and beetroots,” Hermione said slowly, rolling her eyes. “What did you think she meant?” 

“I dunno,” Ron muttered, shaking his head and lowering his head again. 

Harry grinned and turned to listen to Professor Sprout once more. 

“For this task, I am going to pair you up,” Professor Sprout announced, raising her voice. “I want this to be a task where you work with someone you wouldn’t necessarily pick as a partner.” 

Harry’s stomach dropped. He instantly knew who his partner would be and glanced over his shoulder to see Malfoy looking back at him. 

Ron groaned out loud, earning himself a glare from Hermione. 

“Yes, Mr Weasley,” Professor Sprout said, looking over at them. “I am afraid I’m not joking. This class is one of the worst for having a ‘them and us’ mentality, and this is an opportunity for you to get to know some of your other classmates.” 

Ron felt himself turn scarlet as he sank back in his seat. 

Harry resisted the urge to groan himself as he turned away from Malfoy. 

“Mr Weasley, as you are so keen, you can work with Mr Zabini,” Professor Sprout continued, raising her voice. “No, Mr Zabini, I am not joking.” 

Blaise Zabini, who had opened his mouth to protest, snapped it shut again and glared across at Ron.

Ron glared back, the tips of his ears still very pink. 

“Miss Granger, I would like you to work with Miss Parkinson,” Professor Sprout said, seemingly deciding to continue with their tables. “I trust there will be no objections?” 

Hermione glanced at Pansy and shook her head, lifting her chin slightly. Pansy scowled, but shook her head too. 

“That leaves Mr Potter and Mr Malfoy,” Professor Sprout continued, eyeing them both. “Any problems, gentlemen?” 

Harry looked around at Malfoy again, noticing that he looked like working with Harry was the very last thing he wanted to do. 

“No, Professor,” Malfoy replied, meeting Harry’s gaze. “No problems.” 

Harry blinked and turned back to face Professor Sprout. 

“Mr Potter?” 

Harry shook his head silently. He wasn’t sure that either he or Malfoy were telling the truth. 

After watching them both carefully for a moment, Professor Sprout moved on to pairing the rest of the class up. 

Ron and Harry exchanged miserable looks, while Hermione eyed Pansy warily.

***

Approaching Greenhouse Number Five, Harry sighed as Malfoy appeared at his side. “You’d better pull your weight, Malfoy.”

“Me? No need to worry about me, Potter,” Malfoy replied. “You heard what I said to Professor Sprout.” 

“Yeah… what are you up to?” Harry asked, pushing the door open. 

“I’m not _up to_ anything, Potter,” Malfoy said. “I simply told the truth.” 

“Makes a change,” Harry muttered. 

“I heard that,” Malfoy said irritably. “Excuse me for wanting to be a better person.” 

Harry stopped dead, causing Malfoy to walk right into him. “Ow! Malfoy, why would you suddenly want to be a better person?” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Malfoy asked, pushing Harry lightly in the back. “That’s surely a better question?”

“I am confused,” Harry declared, turning to face Malfoy. “And why are we the only ones in this greenhouse?” 

“Because we were the only ones tasked to pick bloody beetroots,” Malfoy replied with a sigh. 

“Great,” Harry muttered, looking around. He sat on the nearest stool and looked at Malfoy. “Seriously, what are you up to?” 

“Seriously? Seriously, I’m fed up of being in a constant battle with you,” Malfoy replied, sitting opposite Harry on another stool. “Aren’t you?” 

“Well… I suppose,” Harry frowned. “But why now?” 

“We’re fifteen,” Malfoy replied. “The biggest fights we should be having are over girls… or boys,” he added, eyeing Harry for a reaction. 

“Boys,” Harry repeated, raising an eyebrow. 

“Or girls,” Malfoy said, shrugging. “I don’t know which you prefer.” 

“Well, do you prefer both?” Harry asked, giving him a quizzical look. 

“No,” Malfoy said, shaking his head. 

“Then we wouldn’t be fighting over girls, would we?” Harry asked lightly, standing up and moving towards the rows of beetroots. 

“Maybe not,” Draco replied thoughtfully, following Harry to the beetroot patch. “I certainly don’t want to fight anyone over girls.” 

“I don’t particularly want to either,” Harry said, glancing over his shoulder at Draco. “Not anymore. I’ve done that. Sort of.”

“I’m happy to say that I’ve never done that,” Draco said. “Exactly what are we meant to do with these things, by the way?” he asked, bending down and pulling one beetroot out of the earth. 

“Put them in that basket there, I suppose,” Harry said, gesturing to the basket that was sitting at the end of the row. “Merlin knows what Professor Sprout will be doing with them.” 

Draco made a face and dropped the beetroot into the basket. “So… would we fight over boys?” 

“Depends what your type is, I suppose,” Harry said. He wasn’t sure where Malfoy was going with this line of conversation at all, but he was determined not to be the one giving everything away. 

“My type?” Draco asked, glancing at Harry. “I don’t know… dark hair… athletic in a surprising way… green eyes…” he added the last thing in a hushed voice. 

Harry dropped the beetroot he was holding in surprise and turned to face Malfoy warily. 

“What?” Draco asked, adopting an innocent expression. 

“You…” Harry began, before shaking his head. “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?” 

“Why would I?” Draco asked, frowning. “What would I have to gain from that?” 

Harry snorted. “Seriously? You aren’t storing everything away in that mind of yours to use against me later?” 

“Potter. No. I am not storing things away to use against you later,” Draco replied, still frowning. “The only thing I want to use against you is my mouth.” 

“What?” Harry asked, thrown again by Draco’s choice of words. “What—”

Draco cut him off by closing the gap between them and crushing their lips together. His hands were clutching fistfuls of Harry’s robes.

Harry’s mind exploded with all manner of thoughts as Malfoy kissed him; how soft Malfoy’s lips were, how _good_ Malfoy smelled, how unbelievably _rude_ Malfoy was to kiss him without asking! 

Harry shoved Malfoy backwards, gasping as they parted. “What the hell was that?” 

“Even you can’t be that dense, Potter,” Draco replied, touching a hand to his mouth. 

“But why?” Harry asked, blinking in confusion. It wasn’t that he hadn’t enjoyed the kiss — quite the contrary — but it had certainly been unexpected. “Why now?” 

“Why not now?” Draco asked, shrugging. “We’re all alone…” 

“That doesn’t mean you can… that you can just kiss me like that!” Harry exclaimed. “Or that you can kiss me at all!” 

Draco blinked this time, a hurt expression flickering across his face. “What did you think I was talking about before?” 

“Well, I mean… I just…” Harry faltered, realising that he might have made a mistake. “We’re enemies…” he added in a whisper. 

“But we don’t have to be,” Draco replied in an urgent whisper of his own. “We can end this any time we want, Potter.” 

“I — I didn’t know you wanted to,” Harry said, feeling wrongfooted. 

“Oh, for…” Draco muttered. “Potter, I always wanted to be your friend. From first year. _You_ rejected _my_ offer of friendship if you remember? I know I didn’t really go about it the right way back then, but…” 

“No, you didn’t,” Harry said, nodding.

“Alright, no need to rub it in,” Draco grumbled. “What I’m saying is, I regret acting that way. I want to get to know you — the real you — and… maybe more.” 

Harry took a deep breath. “And this really isn’t a joke?” 

Draco shook his head. 

“We’re always thrown together,” Harry murmured. “We’re always linked somehow…” 

Draco nodded. “I know.”

“Do you believe in fate?” Harry asked, looking at Draco again. 

“I… I don’t know,” Draco replied honestly. 

“Neither do I,” Harry said, moving closer to Draco. “But maybe… maybe it exists. And maybe it’s telling us we should…” 

“Should what?” Draco asked in a whisper. He hadn’t dared move since Harry had shoved him away.

“That we should put the past behind us,” Harry said softly, standing right beside Draco now. “And try again.” 

Draco swallowed and nodded.

Harry leaned in hesitantly, pressing their lips together once more, allowing himself to actually experience the kiss this time. He felt Draco’s hands fisted in his robes again, as Draco kissed back with as much feeling as he could. Harry finally understood that this wasn’t a joke. 

Neither of them heard the greenhouse door swing open or the footsteps behind them. They did, however, hear the gasp of surprise, and at the sound of Professor Sprout’s voice, sprang apart. 

“You two are _supposed_ to be picking beetroots!”


End file.
